


Joy Ride

by MadisonTheGeek



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Driving, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, POV Third Person, Teen Dean Winchester, Teen Sam Winchester, Teen Winchesters (Supernatural), Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadisonTheGeek/pseuds/MadisonTheGeek
Summary: A young Dean teaches a young Sam how to drive.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Joy Ride

John was passed out in a broken-down chair in a crappy motel room. Again. His fingertips brushed across the top of his almost empty beer bottle that was left abandoned on the ground next to him. A seventeen-year-old Dean was lying prone on the bed behind his father, his head propped up by a fist, watching whatever television program John had fallen to sleep on. The show droned on about some topic Dean was not paying attention to, he would have changed the channel, but that meant searching John’s chair for the remote and risk awakening him.

The boys were on summer holiday from whatever school John was going to drag them to next. They were stuck in a motel in a run-down town in the middle of Alabama between cases. The plan was to stay in town until the morning and then head to wherever John found their next case. Dean, however, would rather hit the road now; it was hot and humid, and Dean was simply bored out of his mind. He turned his head, looking over to Sammy, who sat in the kitchen with his nose in some book. Dean suddenly got up, an idea striking him. 

He sauntered over to his brother. “Whatcha doin’?”

“What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m reading a book.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. “Thanks, genius. I mean, you wanna go do somethin’ else?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, then looked back at his sleeping father, wondering what they could pull off while he was in his drunken sleep. “Like what?”

Dean gave a devious grin. “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe it’s about time you learn to drive.”

Sam’s face lit up with enthusiasm. Dean could not help but smile back at his little brother. 

“Good. Let’s go.” Dean quietly lifted the keys off the counter where John had left them and opened the door to the room. Sam slipped under his brother, and Dean, looking back at his sleeping father, pulled the door shut without a sound.

Sam ran to the car, practically jumping up and down with excitement. Dean followed, throwing the keys over to Sam and getting into the passenger’s side. 

“Okay,” Dean said once they had both gotten into the shiny black Impala. “Now remember, you put so much as a scratch on this car-”

“You’ll kill me?”

“Me? Nah, Dad’ll get to you before I can lay a finger on ya.”

Sam gave his brother a stop-fooling-around look.

“Okay, so the first thing you gotta know is where the gas and brake are.”

“I know where the pedals are, Dean. I’m not a moron.”

Dean gave a small chuckle. “Fine, why don’t you tell me what you know, and we’ll go from there.”

Sam puffed out his chest, ready to prove that he knew what he was doing. The boy had spent most of his life in the car, he may have never driven it, but he knew the basics. “Gas pedal is the one on the right, brake is on the left. Mirrors,” Sam pointed to the rearview and side mirrors, adjusting them as he went, “gears,” he said, pointing in the appropriate place, “P for park, R for reverse, and D for drive. And of course, the most important,” Sam pointed, “the radio.”

Dean smiled, “Well then, let’s take her for a drive.”

Sam put the key in the ignition and attempted to start the car. The Impala sputtered for a moment but did not start. Sam, his face twisting with embarrassment, tried again, and this time the engine roared to life.

“Okay, now you’re gonna back out of the parking spot slowly, turn the wheel this way,” Dean gestured.

Sam did as his brother said, struggling to turn the large car around in the tiny parking lot. Sam realized that the Impala that had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember was actually quite big and a little hard to maneuver. By the time Sam got out of the motel parking lot, both him and Dean were glad there was no one else on the small country road. Sam’s hands held tight on the wheel, gripping it with all his might.

“Sam, relax. It’s just you, me, and the open road. Stop gripping the wheel like it’s your walking cane.”

“Oh, right.” Sam loosened his grip on the wheel. 

Dean looked out his window. The sky was now speckled in dark clouds. Maybe they would get lucky, and it would rain, releasing some of the humidity in the air. Dean’s eyes drifted across the passing landscape, “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I could walk faster than this. The speed limit’s thirty.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” The car lurched forward as Sam hit the gas; he immediately took his foot off the pedal. “Dean, maybe this isn’t a good idea. I’ll pull over; you can take us back.”

“Come on, Sam, everyone makes mistakes at first.”

“Yeah, but. . . I just don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“You’re a Winchester, Sam. We’re meant to drive, especially this car.” Dean patted the Impala’s seat. “Now, just relax, okay? There’s barely anyone on the road. Keep the car straight, hit the pedals lightly. You can do this, Sam.”

Sam nodded, feeling a slight resurge in confidence. He hit the gas pedal again, this time slowly, and the car began accelerating down the road.

The brothers drove down the country road as the clouds began lightly sprinkling them. Sam turned on the windshield wipers; a smile was plastered on his face. He finally felt like he was getting the hang of this.

“Pretty good,” Dean said after they had spent about half an hour on the road. “We should get out on one of the bigger roads now.” 

“What?!” Sam looked at his brother in disbelief. He had just figured out how to drive on the country road; he was not ready for a new challenge. “Dean, you’re crazy. I don’t want to. I can’t drive that fast, not around all those other cars!”

Dean chuckled. “Come on, Sam, in a town this size, on a Sunday evening in Alabama? Everyone’s at home eatin’ dinner or something.”

Sam swallowed hard, torn between proving he was grown up enough and fear of not being able to do it.

“Come on, Sam. It’ll be fun.”

Sam looked at his big brother, who was beaming down at him. Then he looked back at the black road stretched in front of him. “Fine. But not very far, okay?”

Dean nodded.

Sam hit the gas pedal once more and began driving towards the interstate. It was much faster there, but Dean was right, there still were not very many cars. As the car flew down the Alabama interstate, Dean knew that, like the rest of their little family, Sam was a natural at driving. He looked at his little brother and gave a heartfelt smile at how grown up he was becoming, then he flipped on the radio. The classic rock blasted from the radio, and Sam and Dean instinctively began singing out of tune to the well-accustomed song. As the guitar solo came up, Dean continued with their performance by singing out the guitar. The brothers laughed as the Impala rolled through the light rain in the July evening.

They were gone for hours. By the time they got back, the rain had stopped, though the clouds still hung in the air, and behind them, the sun set in hues of red and gold. As the Impala pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam and Dean spotted their father standing outside their room, his arms crossed and looking like he was about to go off.

“Shit,” Dean swore, biting his lip.

Sam, with the help of his brother, pulled the car back into a parking slot, parked it, and took the keys out of the ignition.

“Let me do the talking,” Dean assured his brother.

Sam got out of the car with his head down, waiting for his father to start the yelling.

“Sir, I can explain-” Dean began.

“Dean Winchester, what the hell were you thinking!?”

“I just thought it was about time Sammy learned to drive.”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong!”

“Dad-” Sam began, trying to ease his father’s anger.

“You got nothing to say, Sam. Go inside.”

“But-“

“Now, Sam!”

Sam knew better than to continue arguing with his father. He went to the door, and as he turned to open it, he looked back at his big brother. Dean gave him a sad smile, reassuring him that everything was going to be fine. Sam slipped inside.

The room was dark now, the television quiet and off. Sam sat down at the table and, through the very thin motel’s walls, heard his father’s loud voice booming at Dean.

“How could you’ve been so stupid!?” His father screamed, “Sammy could’ve got hurt, and what were you gonna do then!? And leaving without a note or anything!? How was I supposed to know what the hell happened to you!? What if some damned monster came and took you and I didn’t know to look because you’d just been takin’ your thirteen-year-old brother on a joy ride! You’re supposed to protect your brother, Dean, not put him in more danger!”

John went on screaming at Dean for some time. Dean just took it.

Then the yelling stopped. When John addressed his oldest son again, it was in a quieter voice, slightly hoarse from the yelling, and full of disappointment, “You know better, Dean.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

John turned his back on his son and opened the door to the motel room where Sam was sitting impatiently. Dean came in behind him, somehow looking smaller than before.

Sam looked at his father, anger rising in himself, “I don’t get it, Dad. Dean learned to drive when he was younger than me?” 

“Yeah, well, you’re not Dean, Sam.” John looked at his two sons. “You think Sam should drive?” He imposed the question to Dean. “Fine, teach him. I expect him to be as good as you in a month, though.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, continuing to study the floor rather than look his father in the eye. 

Sam looked from his father to his brother. He wanted to yell how unfair it was, how he was old enough, how well he had done, but one look from his brother made him press his mouth shut.

“Here.” John threw Dean his wallet. “Go to the diner down the road and get us some dinner.”

Dean nodded.

“And walk.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Impala’s keys dropped from Dean’s hand to the counter with a soft jingle. Dean walked out the motel room’s door head still hung with embarrassment. John sat down again on the broken-down chair, running his hands down his face. Sam stared at his father, then he swallowed hard, picked up his book and sat back down without saying a word, waiting for his anger to dissipate.


End file.
